Final Dedication: It’s been a long journey and it seems hard to believe that we’ve actually arrived at the destination. To my friends who have steadfastly supported and encouraged me during this process, I cannot thank you enough. Sheila, Laura, Jill, Karen, Norah and Steph, without you I never would have made it.

If you are currently or have served in the armed forces of this country, I applaud you. Our country is forever in your debt.

SAL, you are my heart and soul. Everything I am is thanks to you.

If you’ve come this far in the story, thank you. I hope you have enjoyed the ride. Please take one more minute to let me know what you think @ lkb533@verizon.net I will respond to all emails.

Chapter 46

Hours later, physically and emotionally drained, Devon lay staring at the ceiling of the cell trying to conjure up pictures of her nephews in her head. She was so tired of thinking about anything in her life that remotely related to this relentless obsession of Honeycutt’s. Her head throbbed and she briefly wished that she hadn’t refused the sandwich earlier in the day; they had brought her nothing since. She tried to guess if it was still the same day or night, but had lost all sense of time in the windowless box. Two different guards appeared, cuffed her again behind the back and led her back to the interrogation room.

After a grueling session with an investigator she had never seen before Devon was once again led back to her cell. Every inch of her body ached, but mercifully, they finally removed the handcuffs that had remained on, binding her hands behind her back as she sat on the metal chair the entire interrogation session. The olive skinned man had repeatedly asked her the names of other gays and lesbians that she knew. Hour after hour, he alternated between offers of food or a phone call to her family in exchange for a name. When that didn’t work he switched to threats of longer confinement, even hard labor at Leavenworth if she refused to cooperate.

Now back in her cell again, Devon lay down on her side on the small mattress and pulled her knees up to her chest. She was shivering but had no blanket so she wrapped her arms around her chest and closed her eyes, praying for sleep to allow her to escape for just a while.

She must have dozed. The sound of voices awakened her. As they drew nearer, she recognized Honeycutt’s voice, “You can’t just come in here and bark orders at my people. I’m in charge here.” There was a note of desperation beneath the anger. Devon tried to see up the hallway, but couldn’t.

“No, that’s where you’re wrong, chief, you can’t hold a prisoner indefinitely without counsel.” A tall man wearing army dress greens bearing the rank of lieutenant colonel, with medium brown hair, hazel eyes and a warm smile approached the bars of Devon’s cell. He scrutinized her physical appearance and frowned. Turning back to Honeycutt, he instructed, “Open the door, chief and leave me alone with my client.”

He switched his briefcase to his left hand, extending his right to Devon in greeting, “Lieutenant James? I’m Lt. Colonel Robert Meadows, your legal advisor.” His handshake was firm and his smile genuine as he met Devon’s questioning eyes.

“Who? How did you know I was here? I don’t understand,” she finished uneasily.

The lawyer nodded reassuringly, “It’s alright, lieutenant. Have a seat and I’ll answer all of your questions. We have a lot of ground to cover, I understand.”

Running a trembling hand through her disheveled hair, she laughed shakily, “I must look like hell.”

“Don’t worry; we’ll get you out of here soon enough, lieutenant. In the mean time, I’ll have someone run by your place and get you a fresh change of clothes.”

“Thanks, and could you call me Devon, please?”

“Sure.” He smiled again, “Okay, so let’s get down to business, Devon.”

#

Just before eight o’clock on Sunday night, approximately thirty five hours since Devon had been arrested and removed from the NSA building, her attorney knocked on the door large oak door of the stately accommodations reserved for the highest ranking military officers. The door opened and Meadows was ushered inside. He followed the long, purposeful strides of the grey haired resident of the home down a hallway of dark parquet flooring that led to a study with large picture windows looking out over a well manicured garden.

Closing the double doors behind them, the older man took a seat in one of the blue winged back chairs and indicated for the younger man to sit as well. “What do you have?”

“Well, general, McKinley’s information appears to be right on the money. I spent a few hours this morning interviewing Lieutenant James.”

“How is she?” the general interrupted.

Shrugging and turning his hands palms up in the air, in a gesture of uncertainty, he replied, “She is obviously worn out. They interrogated her almost nonstop for six to eight hours at a time, as near as I could estimate.” He stopped and sighed, knowing the next bit of information was going to anger the general, “Looks like they hit her a few times,” the older man made a deep grumbling noise, “But you know she’s pretty tough. She seems to be holding up fairly well.”

The general moved over to the small bar area and poured whiskey into two glasses, returning to his chair and handing one to the attorney. “Go on.”

The attorney extracted a folder from his briefcase, “I have copies of the CID ‘official’ report, which indicates conduct violating UCMJ regulations, with pictures allegedly backing the report up. However, Sergeant Miller’s actual report, states that nothing improper happened, only that they were seen at that establishment.”

“So, somebody altered the report?” the general asked, taking the pages from the lawyer to study them himself.

“It would seem so. I have sworn statements from the original investigator and several of the people who were at the club that night.”

The general nodded, listening as he read. “What happens next?” he asked, looking up from the reports.

“I can’t get her released until tomorrow morning at the earliest. Honeycutt knew what he was doing by grabbing her on a Saturday. I’ll find a judge first thing and secure a release order.”

“Very good, then.” The general stood.

“General, I need you to take a look at this as well.” Meadows handed over a manila envelope.

The general extracted the contents and stared disbelievingly. Finally, he looked up at the attorney. “These are authentic?”

“Yes, sir. It appears that the chief has been living quite a double life. Captain McKinley said you would know what to do with those.”

The general nodded as he placed the pictures back into the folder. “I’ll handle it.”

“Sir, one more thing.” The older man raised an eyebrow in question, “The judge will most likely only release her from the cell to housing confinement, but since she lives off post that will require that someone agree to be responsible for her. An assurance she will not disappear before the hearing.”

“Fine,” the general said with certainty. “Tell the judge that I will vouch for her. Christ, Robert I’ve never known a more honest person in my life than Devon James.”

The general walked his guest to the door, instructing him to call the minute Devon was released from custody, “Let her go home and get cleaned up a bit tomorrow, then I want you to bring her directly here, Robert.”

“Yes sir. Goodnight.”

Back in the study, the grey haired gentleman picked up the receiver of the black telephone and punched in the ten digit number written on the pad next to his arm on the wide cherry desk.

“Mac?” He said when a woman’s voice came through the other end of the line.

“General. Did you get Devon released?”

“No, not yet. We’ll get her released first thing tomorrow morning.”

“What about the information from Agent Miller? Is it going to be enough to drop the charges?”

“All the information you gave us seems to check out, so it shouldn’t be a problem, but it is going to take a bit of time to get everything sorted out.” He said.

“Okay, I’ll be leaving here Friday morning. Thank you, sir.”

The general smiled, “Then I’ll look forward to seeing you Friday night.”

Chapter 47

At eight thirty two Monday morning, Lt. Colonel Meadows slapped the court order releasing Devon into the general’s custody down in the center of Honeycutt’s desk. The CID chief sputtered and roared about lawyers manipulating the justice system, but in the end acquiesced, having a guard bring her to the office. Meadows met the lieutenant at the doorway of the office to lead her out when Honeycutt called after them. They stopped momentarily and Devon turned to face him.

Honeycutt spoke with a voice full of contempt, “A word of warning, lieutenant, this isn’t over. You are still the subject of serious charges and as such are confined to your living quarters. Is that understood?”

Their eyes locked in a hateful stare. Devon opened her mouth to respond but the attorney ushered her through the doorway into the hall, calling over his shoulder, “My client will abide by the judge’s order.” With that they made their way quickly out of the building.

After Devon showered and changed into a set of desert fatigues, they stopped by a drive through where was tempted to order one of everything from the breakfast menu. Instead, she settled for a ham and egg muffin, two hash browns, a cinnamon roll, fruit cup and a large coffee. “And a large coffee for me,” laughed the colonel. As he drove, Devon asked in between bites, “So, where are we going now?”

“A mutual friend heard about your circumstance and is eager to see you.” He sipped his coffee, giving no further explanation. Devon shrugged, just happy to be out of the jail cell. She settled back in the seat to enjoy the rest of her breakfast on the way to their mysterious destination.

The door opened and Devon’s mouth gaped in wonder at the man standing in the threshold. He stepped toward her with his arms wide, wrapping her in a tight embrace, “How are you, child?” he said affectionately pulling her head to his chest.

She returned the fierce hug, tears blurring her vision, managing to say through the lump in her throat, “Better, sir. Colonel Brinkman? How—” Devon saw the silver star on the collar of the man still holding onto her shoulders, “Oh. Forgive me, general.” She stiffened reflexively to attention.

He laughed kindly at the young officer who he had come to think of as a surrogate daughter, before reaching up to cup her face in his large hands. He tilted her head to examine her injuries. Narrowing his eyes and gritting his teeth, he silently vowed that Honeycutt would pay dearly for his transgressions.

General Brinkman kept close tabs on Devon after sending her on the ISA assignment to Beirut and was proud beyond measure at her accomplishments. He was terrified when the news came of the bombing and the word that one of the army team leaders was shot. That she had survived all that, only to be treated this way here at home, made the career soldier barely able to contain his anger. Wrapping a long arm around Devon’s shoulder, he guided her into the house to begin their visit. They had a lot to talk about.

#

Wednesday morning Chief Honeycutt hefted his large frame out from behind the wheel of his government-issue four door sedan in the parking lot of the CID office building. He leaned into the back seat to retrieve his briefcase, slammed the car door and stalked toward the rear door. Angrily jerking open the glass door, his mind was churning trying to plan his next course of action.

The judge had thrown out all of the parts of the report on James relating to the night that he had sent Karynn to shadow agent Miller. The prosecutor said it was possible to get a conviction based on Karynn’s testimony and the circumstantial evidence of the pictures, but he wouldn’t count on it. He threw his case into the chair in front of the desk, leaned over and pounded his fist on the blotter. Damn her, she will not get away from me again!

He mashed the intercom button, “Sylvia, get Karynn in here ASAP!” he shouted. Shortly thereafter, the agent in question appeared in the doorway.

“You wanted to see me, chief?” she asked as she entered the office.

“I want to make very sure that we are clear about what I expect your testimony to be in the James case.” The petite woman nodded. “Your pictures tell a good story, but it might not be enough. We at least need to be in a situation where it’s your word against theirs about what was said.”

“But chief, I didn’t actually hear them talking,” she said warily.

“Are you going to stand there and tell me that there is any doubt in your mind what was going on between James and Miller?” He was nearly shouting.

“No, sir…but…”

“Well then what’s the problem? If you know in your heart it’s the truth, then what difference does it make if you testify that you heard her come on to another woman?”

“Now how interesting is this?” a male voice interjected from the doorway. Honeycutt visibly paled as he watched in horror as General Brinkman, Agent Miller and two uniformed MP’s stepped into the office. Brinkman approached the heavyset investigator, the hint of a smile pulling at his mouth. “Please, don’t let us interrupt. I believe you were about to finish giving your subordinate instructions to lie under oath in a criminal proceeding? Is that about right?”

“You can’t prove that, it will be our word against yours,” Honeycutt indicated Karynn, his voice sounded almost shrill, his eyes wild with panic now.

Brinkman did smile now, “Really? I’m willing to bet that they’ll be more apt to accept the word of a general and the sergeant here,” he nodded his head toward Susan. “Particularly since Agent Miller’s integrity exposed the fact that you previously altered several official military documents, Chief Honeycutt. And, I’m certain that this agent,” he pointed to Karynn, “will gladly tell the judge all about your transgressions, rather than join you as a co-defendant in a perjury trial.”

“Perjury?” Honeycutt was regaining some of his confidence. “James was in that bar, the pictures don’t lie. It took years to make this case.” He pointed a chubby finger at Brinkman, “And all this time, you were treating that low life like she was some hero. That’s despicable. She doesn’t belong in the army—none of them do.”

The general stepped forward, holding one of Susan’s pictures up in front of Honeycutt’s face. “Funny you should mention pictures, chief. You won’t be in the army for long. Trust me.”

Honeycutt started to stammer something about his innocence when the general waved a dismissive hand in the air, “Save it for your defense counsel, Chief. Gentleman, please remove Chief Honeycutt from the building.” With that, the two MP’s handcuffed the fat man and transported him to a holding cell in the military police section of the complex. Ironically, the same cell that Devon had occupied the weekend before.

Chapter 48

Friday night, Devon arrived at the general’s house for dinner at precisely 1900 hours. He instructed her not to come in uniform and to dress casually, but she still had fussed over her outfit and finally settled on a pair of tan chinos, navy blue polo shirt and brown loafers. She rang the bell and fidgeted nervously, uncertain of any hidden reason for the dinner, like her plans for the future. While she was being held, Devon had a lot of time to think and she came to the decision that she would not re-enlist in January. She knew that the general thought she could have a great career in spite of everything that had happened, and she was grateful for his help and faith in her, but she was certain that she did not want to stay in the Army.

Lost in her thoughts when the door opened, Devon was slow to react to the sight of the woman standing in front of her. When her brain engaged, she let out a choked cry and threw herself into the waiting arms. “Mac!” Then all she could do is laugh and cry all at once, clutching to her friend in disbelief.

Mac drew her inside, teasing, “Jesus, I can’t leave you alone for even a few weeks without you getting yourself into all kinds of shit, huh?” She tousled the blond curls as they walked together down the hall.

Devon was stunned and moved to tears at the sight when they reached the living room. In addition to Mac, the general, Ann, Carmen, Elaina, Susan and Robert, her attorney were all seated around the room, enjoying drinks and hors d’oeuvres. The general greeted her with a warm smile and hug. “Now that the guest of honor is here, we can really get this celebration under way.” He called happily to the rest of the guests.

“Everyone,” Robert said, “Let me be the first to officially announce that all of the charges against Devon were dropped today.” The group erupted in cheers.

The general stepped forward with his glassed raised, “Chief Honeycutt has been removed from his position and demoted. Criminal charges have been brought against him for his role in falsifying documents of the investigation. A trial is forthcoming.” He dropped an arm around Devon’s shoulder and hugged her tightly. “I’m just sorry you had to go through all this, Devon.”

“I wouldn’t have made it through without all of you.” Devon looked around the room at her friends. “I don’t know what to say. Thanks doesn’t seem to begin to cover it.” Tears welled up in her eyes.

“Okay, no more of that,” the general said. “This is a party, let’s have fun.”

Susan made her way to where Devon was pouring herself another glass of wine. As she saw her approach, Devon held up the bottle, “Ready for a bit more?” She nodded. Sensing that Susan had something on her mind, Devon waited quietly.

Susan began, “Devon, I…” her voice broke, uncertainty and guilt squeezing her throat tightly. She took a sip of wine, reassured as Devon smiled at her. “I just wanted to apologize for my initial role in the investigation. I never thought…” she blew out a long breath.

“I know, Susan,” Devon let her off the hook.

“Anyway, I also need you to know that I didn’t stop to save myself. That night at the bar, you made me think—no that’s not right—you made me feel something I never had before.” Devon’s eyes held hers as she struggled to continue, “I could never do anything to intentionally hurt you.” She finished softly. Susan lowered her eyes and turned to move away when Devon caught her forearm with a hand to stop her.

“Hey,” Devon leaned in to meet her eyes again, “we’re even now, ‘cause you saved my butt. I won’t forget that. Ever.” She smiled brightly at the other woman who couldn’t help but smile in return.

“Thanks. I’ll never forget you, Devon.” Setting her glass down on the bar, she brushed her fingers on the back Devon’s hand and stepped away to say goodnight to the general. Devon watched as Mac walked her to the front door and the two women exchanged a few words before Susan left.

It was getting close to midnight when the general poured Devon, Mac and himself a brandy as they sat by the fire in his study after all the other guests had gone. Still relishing freedom, Devon didn’t think she had ever been so relaxed in her life. She swirled the amber liquid around in the glass and stared into the fire, thinking about how quickly her life had changed, and how she would never again take her freedom for granted.

General Brinkman spoke, interrupting her reverie. “Devon, what do you want to do now? I mean, have you thought about the future?”

She looked back at him seriously, “Yes, sir I have. I know you want me to stay in, try to make captain—”

“Oh, there’s no trying,” He interrupted, “with your service record and decorations, I could get that done in the blink of an eye.”

“Yes, sir. The thing is, I don’t think I want to stay in the Army. I gave it a lot of thought recently, I really did.” She paused, knowing she was going to disappoint him. “I am not going to re-up. I hope you can understand, sir.” The pain in her eyes made him smile sadly.

“Well, the army is losing a great officer.” He looked at Mac, “Actually, two great leaders in one year.” He shook his head, “When are they going to learn?”

“So, what’s going to happen to Honeycutt?” Devon asked.

“The charges he’s facing are pretty serious,” the general studied his drink, “he may get jail time.”

“Yes, but for a guy like him the real punishment has already happened,” Mac stated. “Being that deep in the closet and being outed…” she whistled softly, “…almost makes me feel sorry for the guy.”

When Devon looked at her in shock, she laughed and added, “I said almost. That bastard is getting exactly what he deserves.”

#

The next morning, Mac headed to the kitchen to start the coffee before Devon woke up. Moving quietly through the apartment, she turned on the stove light so as not to disturb her sleeping friend. After filling the basket and water reservoir she flipped on the switch and turned toward the front door to check on the paper delivery.

As she was walking past the couch a voice startled her, “Good morning.”

“Chrissakes!” she exclaimed, jumping about two feet in the air, heart beating wildly. “You scared the shit out of me.” She hadn’t noticed Devon sitting silently on the couch.

“Sorry.”

“Hey, it’s your place,” Mac dropped onto the couch next to Devon. Her eyes were adjusting to the dim lighting. She scrutinized the younger woman, “How long have you been up?” Even in the semidarkness the deep hollows and shadows around Devon’s eyes were visible.

“Um…I don’t know.” She rubbed her hands over her face.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, just a little trouble sleeping.” Devon said noncommittally.

Mac nodded, “It will take some time, but you’ll be fine. If you ever need to talk, you know I’m here, right?”

“I know. Thanks for everything. Again.” She smiled sheepishly.

“Don’t mention it. Hey, what do you say we go for a run? It’ll do us both good.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Devon agreed.

Thirty minutes later, as the sun was painting the horizon in shades of pink, orange and yellow, the two women rounded the bend back into the complex and decided to race the remaining distance to Devon’s front door. Legs and arms pumping furiously, neither woman willing to give in to their competitive nature, they sprinted all out across the final expanse of parking lot. Lunging for the door, they collided, sending them both sprawling onto the grass and laughing hysterically. Finally able to stand, they made their way inside, still gripped by a case of the giggles as the door closed behind them.

Devon pushed past the kitchen counter, her sides aching from the run and fits of laughter, relishing in the feeling of release the adrenaline rush was giving her. Reaching into the cabinet, she pulled down two coffee mugs and poured them each a cup. She grabbed the creamer out of the refrigerator splashing a bit into her coffee and holding up the carton in offering to Mac who shook her head. Leaning into the refrigerator, she surveyed their options, which were few because she hadn’t been home in a few days and most everything was spoiled. She sighed and closed the door.

“How about some toast?” she took four slices of bread from the plastic bag and popped them into the toaster. Then she pulled up a stool next to her friend at the breakfast bar.

Sipping her coffee, Mac looked at Devon seriously, “So, really Dev, what are you planning to do when you get out?”

Devon shrugged, “I don’t really know. I guess look for a job. Maybe head back to Pittsburgh…” she shrugged again.

“They’re hiring police officers in Tampa.” Mac said.

“I never really thought about being a cop.”

“It’s a no brainer. Policing is very similar to the military in rank structures and discipline, things you’re used to. You have a great background with your airborne and rappelling training.”

“I don’t know, I’ll have to think about it.”

“And,” Mac said with a cocky grin, “Think about it, chicks dig uniforms. You already know that.” Devon laughed out loud at her.

“Shut up,” she shoved Mac playfully.

“No listen,” Mac said seriously as her eyes twinkled, “I’ve given this a lot of thought. This could be the best move you ever made. Look at you. I mean, objectively speaking. Not that I am interested that way, but you are good looking,” she grabbed a fistful of blond curl, “women swoon over this mop and those baby blues.” Devon groaned out loud.

Continuing as if she hadn’t heard, Mac said, “You’ve got those cool scars, and on top of it all you’ll be in uniform. Holy shit, every lady in Tampa is going to be going nuts over you.” She finished, folding her arms across her chest, supremely satisfied at having made her well rounded case.

“You are completely insane,” Devon started laughing so hard her sides hurt again.

Just after eight Devon and Mac said goodbye in the parking lot, much as they had they day Mac left in July. Inside the apartment, Devon was alone for the first time since she had been released. It had only been eight days since her arrest, and it felt like a lifetime had gone by. She knew with certainty that the experience had changed her forever. Actually, so many things had changed her in the past couple of years, she wasn’t even sure if she knew herself anymore.

Picking up the papers stacked neatly on the counter, she grinned when she saw that it was the application for the police department in Tampa. She just doesn’t quit. Pouring herself a glass of orange juice, Devon walked out on to the front step and sat in the warm sunlight to think.

What was she going to do with herself? Her skills were in deciphering and locating signals for intelligence work. She supposed there were probably some civilian companies with government contracts that she could apply to, but was her clearance tainted now? She just didn’t know. Moving back to PA was an option, but she really wasn’t sure if she could relate to anyone anymore. She felt like a stranger, even to herself. Her sister would try to be supportive, but she had her own family to worry about.

Gulping down the rest of the juice, Devon went back inside to located a pen and begin filling out the job application for a police officer. Mac was right, she was comfortable in uniform, knew how to shoot, and jump out of planes. Sounded like skills a cop could use. After everything she had seen and been through, maybe a brand new start was just what she needed. Somewhere nobody knew her, except Mac, and she wouldn’t have to pretend she was happy when she wasn’t. Space and time to get herself back together. A new life in Florida might just be the answer.

She snatched up the phone and dialed her friend’s number, knowing she was still hours from getting the message. “Hey. It’s me. I filled out the application and I’ll put it in the mail today. Maybe I’ll get lucky and they’ll hire me. Of course that means you might have to put me up for a little while until I find a place, but don’t forget this was your idea. See you soon, buddy.”

#

On a cold snowy February morning, twenty six year old Devon James pulled her Jeep past the guard shack and saluted the private on sentry duty at the gate of Fort Meade as she exited the base for the last time. She felt an odd melancholy as she watched the gate disappear in her rear view mirror and cranked up the volume of the radio to drown the disquieting feeling, knowing it was partly just nervousness about starting over again; something she desperately needed to do.

It was a bit overwhelming to think about her future, when the past still lurked like a thundercloud hovering over her memories. She cut short her visit to Pittsburgh after only a few days, realizing that although she enjoyed the time with her sister and nephews, she scared the kids when she woke them up yelling in a nightmare and she heard her brother in law asking Leigh how long she was going to stay.

She tried to go out, but Devon no longer felt anything in common with her old friends and no interest in telling them about her life. Worse yet, the city now held memories of Jillian, something she steadfastly avoided at all cost. One night she went out to a bar and ended up leaving with a cute brunette who was wearing a Penn State sweatshirt, but when the alcoholic cloud cleared her brain, she realized it was not Alex. She stole quietly from the woman’s apartment before dawn, too ashamed and confused by her behavior to even face her. So, in the end, she decided that the best thing to do was to come back to her apartment, pack up her life and move forward as soon as possible, leaving the painful memories far behind.

Soon, thoughts of seeing Mac and the promise of a new future turned her anxiety to anticipation as she merged from I495 onto the ramp for interstate 95 south. Devon knew she had been forever changed by her experiences. But, she had also learned valuable lessons that would serve her well in life. The one thing she was certain of now was that she was a survivor, and no matter what, giving in to the demons was not an option.

It was six weeks until the police academy started. Plenty of time to get herself settled, re-establish her workout routine and learn her way around her new home. Yes, that was a great plan. After that, she would busy herself with learning her new career and doing whatever it took to excel from day one. Her road back from hell didn’t seem quite as insurmountable as the bright morning sunlight bathed the interior of the jeep in warmth; Devon smiled feeling happier than she had in longer than she could remember.

“Well, here I go,” she said out loud. The sounds of Kansas’ glorious brand of rock and roll filled the jeep as Devon sped down the highway. The singer seemed to be sending a message directly to her. He was right; hanging on to the past was pointless. “Everything is dust in the wind.” Truer words were never spoken.

Epilogue:

August 1989

“Sign here for your belongings.” The deputy pushed the form through the slot. After the inmate signed and returned the paper, he slid the drawer open. The inmate extracted a clear plastic bag containing his clothing and other personal items. He was led into a small changing room where he removed the bright orange prison uniform, replacing it with the clothes he was wearing when he came in.

For three years the Florida State Prison had been his home, ever since he was convicted and sentenced on the aggravated battery charge. Outside the gate he handed the taxi driver the voucher the clerk had given him.

“Where to buddy?” The cabbie asked.

“Nearest town is fine. Cheapest motel.”

He removed a piece of paper from his wallet. It was tattered from being folded and unfolded hundreds of times. A wallet sized picture of a man in a military uniform fell out of the paper. He looked at the letter and picture. It was all he had left of his father. A suicide note.

That’s what they called it. Well, they were full of shit. They killed him just as surely as if they had pulled the trigger of the gun themselves. My father was not a fag. Protecting those bitches, that’s what they were doing. His father knew what they were and it was his duty to rid the military of their kind. But they turned on him and drove him to desperation.

Three years he had time to think about them and figure out what he was going to do. The time was drawing near. Oh, yeah. A friend of his father’s gave him the information that James was living in Tampa now. She was a cop. A fucking cop. This was turning out to be more poetic justice than he’d ever dreamed.

He stared unseeing out the window as the cabbie turned down the main street. Soon. “I’ll be seeing you soon Devon James.”

The End

Or is it?

Send your comments to lkb533@verizon.net Thanks for reading, Lynette.

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